Cultivating Immortality, Starting from Childhood Sweethearts

"At last night's banquet, during the flower game between the envoys of the two kingdoms, not a single envoy from our Wu Kingdom won. Throughout the feast, the people of Qi were immensely pleased, while our Wu envoys sat in silence, their faces darkened with shame.

Seeing the situation take a dire turn, Mr. Xiao proposed composing poems using the names of those present as inspiration.

But who could have known? In poetry and prose, not one of our Wu Kingdom's scholars could best the Qi Kingdom.

At that moment, the son of the Fifth Madam of the Xu household—Xu Ming—stepped forward.

'Having endured the bitterness of partings across the world,

Returning now to see the fallen flowers scattered thus.

Beneath the blooms, we gaze in speechless sorrow,

While the spring outside the green window fades with the sky.

I'll tell my longing under the lamp at night:

A new joy, yet tangled with old grievances, endless as threads.

The most fleeting thing in this world:

Beauty fading from the mirror, like blossoms from the trees.'

The poem concluded, and Xu Ming's words resonated deeply, stirring the very essence of literature itself. The literary aura billowed through the hall, playfully flickering the candle flames—so effortless, so free.

Qi Kingdom's gifted scholar, Zhu Cici, could only bow in concession.

The sons of Wu Kingdom let out a collective breath of pride, raised their cups, and drank deeply, all becoming thoroughly intoxicated."

"Bravo!"

"That felt so satisfying!"

"What a relief!"

"What a magnificent poem!!!"

"I heard this poem was inspired by Xu Ming's two childhood companions—one, Xu Xue'nuo, who went to Wan Jian Sect, and the other, Qin Qingwan, who went to Tianxuan Sect. It was written out of longing, and it just so happened to use Zhu Cici's name."

"Surely, it must have been written for Qin Qingwan. Word has it they entered school together, inseparable as childhood friends."

"Regardless of who it was written for, this poem is truly extraordinary!"

As the storyteller's voice fell, the teahouse erupted with applause, and discussions about the poem broke out among the guests.

"What a pity he is a son of a concubine..." a guest said suddenly, his tone filled with regret.

His voice was not loud, but many heard it. Quite a few people showed expressions of disappointment and sorrow.

"So what if he is a son of a concubine?!" A burly man slammed his hand on the table. "A hundred and fifty years ago, in our Wu Kingdom, where was it written that sons of concubines couldn't take the imperial examinations or enter the court as officials?!"

"Brother, mind your words," another quickly cautioned.

"How can I mind my words now?!" Another man stood up, his face flushed with indignation. "In Qi Kingdom, everyone can take the imperial exams, yet here in Wu, we still restrict it by birth? How can we ever surpass Qi this way?! If even someone as talented as Xu Ming cannot take the exams, then who can?!"

"Exactly!" another person rose to his feet. "When the founding emperor established the nation, did he not decree that no one would be punished for speaking their mind? Is it the late emperor's rule to bar the sons of concubines or common folk from the exams? If the authorities arrest me for saying this, would they not dishonor our ancestors' principles?!"

'The most fleeting thing in this world:

Beauty fading from the mirror, like blossoms from the trees.'

At Prince Teng's Manor, a young woman in the bloom of youth held the latest Weekly Gazette in her hands, reading the poem over and over. The more she read, the more she adored it.

It was hard to believe that such lines were written by an eight-year-old child.

Zhu Cici… Xu Ming…

Who was the true literary prodigy here?

The woman had also heard that, while the poem was composed using Zhu Cici's name, it was actually inspired by Xu Ming's longing for his childhood companion who had gone to Tianxuan Sect.

For a child so young to possess such mature sentiments and such a romantic spirit...

"I really wish to meet him."

"Cuier," she called softly, setting the Weekly Gazette down.

"Your Highness?" A maidservant, Cuier, entered the room.

"Send a visiting card to the Xu household for me. Say I would like to meet young Master Xu Ming."

Hearing that her mistress planned to leave the house, Cuier looked at her in astonishment but quickly recovered and nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."

In the Imperial Study.

The Emperor of Wu carefully read through the detailed report sent by Tingfeng Pavilion regarding the events of last night's banquet. Every poem and verse composed was recorded meticulously, and when he reached the final poem, he couldn't help but lose himself in thought.

"This… was truly composed by an eight-year-old child?"

The Emperor raised his head and looked incredulously at Wei Xun.

Eunuch Wei smiled and nodded. "Your Majesty, during last night's banquet, the literary resonance stirred for a full two ke (half an hour)."

The Emperor fell silent.

The literary resonance does not lie. If the poem had been composed by someone else and simply passed off as Xu Ming's, the literary fortune would not have responded at all.

"This Xiao Mochi…" The Emperor set down the confidential report and rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "He actually bet right this time. Acting purely on his instincts, he's left me with a complete mess to clean up!"

The Emperor could already envision the chaos that would unfold in the court.

His head had already been aching enough before this. Now, he almost didn't want to attend court at all.

Wei Xun simply stood there, his expression carrying a sycophantic smile. Although the Emperor seemed visibly irritated, Wei Xun knew well enough that, in reality, the Emperor was quite pleased.

The Emperor had always been a supporter of reform, having quietly and overtly aided Xiao Mochi on many occasions. Now that there was finally a breakthrough, no one could be happier than the Emperor himself.

"Wei Xun, Xu Ming has restored honor to our Wu Kingdom with a poem for the ages. What do you think should be done?" the Emperor asked.

Wei Xun, well aware of the Emperor's intent, immediately replied, "Your Majesty, he deserves a grand reward."

A smile tugged at the Emperor's lips—he had been waiting for someone to say that. "Summon the officials. Draft an imperial decree."

---

'Having endured the bitterness of partings across the world,

Returning now to see the fallen flowers scattered thus.

Beneath the blooms, we gaze in speechless sorrow,

While the spring outside the green window fades with the sky.'

In a valley filled with seas of flowers, an eight-year-old girl sat on a chair by a Blood Toras flowerbed. She swung her small feet back and forth as she recited the poem that had traveled all the way from her hometown.

'I'll tell my longing under the lamp at night:

A new joy, yet tangled with old grievances, endless as threads.

The most fleeting thing in this world:

Beauty fading from the mirror, like blossoms from the trees.'

As she recited, her peach blossom-like eyes lit up with a sweet smile, as though she had tasted the sweetest candy in the world—one that melted right into her heart.

However, as she continued smiling, her delicate brows began to knit slightly, and her small mouth pouted.

"This poem clearly speaks of longing, but why does it have another girl's name in it…"

Qin Qingwan muttered unhappily to herself, reaching out her little hand to tap lightly on the paper where the poem was written.

"Ming-gege, could it be that you don't like Qingwan anymore?"

"No, no, that's impossible. Ming-gege promised he would always like Qingwan."

"I really wish I could grow up faster. Flowers, flowers, hurry up and bloom…"

Puffing her cheeks in frustration, Qin Qingwan clasped her hands between her knees, staring blankly at the flowerbed before her.

For once, the little girl felt a rare melancholy.